Boy Toy Chronicles
Page 16
He smirks. “Want to sit on it?”
I pull Allie by her top until she standing far, far away from him. I even go as far as placing her behind me so she can't see him. “Rule number one, asshole,” I remind him.
He nods once, his lips pressed tight. “No probs, mate.”
“So what's the plan today, boys?”
“Party prep,” Troy mumbles, his mouth full of cereal. He's sitting on a pillow on the floor.
The sight makes me grimace. “You tried it twice, huh?”
He nods slowly.
“And?”
He shrugs and swallows his food. “I think I'll go for thirds. It wasn't so bad this time.”
Allie lifts my arm and ducks underneath it, then settles it around her shoulders and links her fingers with mine. “What are you guys talking about?”
I pull her closer to me. “Nothing. You want to go out for breakfast?”
“Don't the guys need help with setting up for the party?”
Chase walks into the room and I instinctively hold Allie tighter. “You're good, Prez,” he informs, patting my back. “I got this. Go spend some time with Allie. She didn't drive all the way here to hang out with us. Right, Al?”
“I don't mind,” she says quietly squeezing my hand. She adds, “We can hang out here.”
“I kind of just want you to myself for the day, if that's cool?”
Her smile is instant.
***
“Have you got plans for today?” she asks.
“Do I have plans?” I repeat cockily. “I may have some.” I wait until she's seated and her belt’s on before closing her door.
Once I'm in the car and the engines on, she asks, “What plans?”
I reach into my pocket and pull out the list I'd created while I was waiting for her to arrive last night. She eyes it suspiciously when I hand it to her. “What?” I ask.
“Nothing,” she says slowly, her eyes moving from me to the note. Her smile is a slow build up, turned ear-to-ear grin. “iHop for breakfast,” she reads.
“It's still your favorite, right?”
She nods, her smile somehow getting wider.
She continues to read the list. “Mini golf, library, rollerblading, picnic, science museum, and rock climbing?”
Pulling away from the curb, I glance at her quickly. “It's been a while…I don't know if you're still into all those things.”
“I am.”
“Yeah?” My breath catches when she places her hand on my leg.
“But I'd be just as happy to sit in your room with you and do absolutely nothing.” She leans over and kisses my cheek. “Thank you, Ty.”
“For what?”
“For trying to cheer me up.”
“I just want you to be happy, Al.”
“I know. And I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have you as a friend.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I come from your typical all-American family. I'm an only child and my parents are so in love that growing up, watching their open affection for each either was sometimes sickening. My mom was your typical housewife—similar to a lot of our clients—and my dad worked. Dinner would be on the table the same time every night, and every night my dad would kiss my mom and thank her for not only dinner, but for running the house. I was seventeen when I walked into the kitchen and saw my mom and dad slow dancing in the middle of the room. There was no music. I remember thinking that that—who they were, and what they meant to each other, was the purpose of love. That synchronization. That never getting sick of each other. That effortless bond. That waking up every day and being thankful that the other half of you exists.
And as I watched Allie swinging away with the putter and missing the hole from two feet away for the thirteenth time, I wondered if she was my purpose. If she was all of that for me.
And I wondered why it was so hard for me to voice all of that to her.
We spend the rest of the day ticking off every single item on the list. By the time we finish rock climbing, we're both so exhausted we decide to skip dinner and go home to nap. That's where we are now; in my bed with her in my arms as she drifts off to sleep.
A knock on the door startles me awake. Chase walks in with the phone to his ear but freezes when he sees Allie with me. He picks up the pen on the whiteboard hanging on my door.
Mrs. Fletcher wants to see you. You want me to make it for tomorrow night when Allie's gone?
I nod, careful not to wake her.
He gives me a thumbs up before erasing his note and closing the door behind him.
Luckily, Allie's not one of those girls who take forever to get ready—which is good because we sleep through the first hour of the party. I told her we should just skip it. She reminded me that I was president and it was my job to at least make an appearance.
“Do guys really get turned on by this?” she asks, her focus on the two girls making out on the kitchen counter.
“How is this not a turn on?”
“It's so degrading…”
“No one forces them to do what they're doing, Al.”
“I know…it's just…that's someone's daughter. Someone's sister.” She looks up at me. “How would you feel if it were me?”
I shrug and try to play it cool. “I'd probably be turned on. Then ask for a private screening.”
She laughs and hits my stomach with the back of her hand. “You're a pig.”
I pull Allie by her top until she standing far, far away from him. I even go as far as placing her behind me so she can't see him. “Rule number one, asshole,” I remind him.
He nods once, his lips pressed tight. “No probs, mate.”
“So what's the plan today, boys?”
“Party prep,” Troy mumbles, his mouth full of cereal. He's sitting on a pillow on the floor.
The sight makes me grimace. “You tried it twice, huh?”
He nods slowly.
“And?”
He shrugs and swallows his food. “I think I'll go for thirds. It wasn't so bad this time.”
Allie lifts my arm and ducks underneath it, then settles it around her shoulders and links her fingers with mine. “What are you guys talking about?”
I pull her closer to me. “Nothing. You want to go out for breakfast?”
“Don't the guys need help with setting up for the party?”
Chase walks into the room and I instinctively hold Allie tighter. “You're good, Prez,” he informs, patting my back. “I got this. Go spend some time with Allie. She didn't drive all the way here to hang out with us. Right, Al?”
“I don't mind,” she says quietly squeezing my hand. She adds, “We can hang out here.”
“I kind of just want you to myself for the day, if that's cool?”
Her smile is instant.
***
“Have you got plans for today?” she asks.
“Do I have plans?” I repeat cockily. “I may have some.” I wait until she's seated and her belt’s on before closing her door.
Once I'm in the car and the engines on, she asks, “What plans?”
I reach into my pocket and pull out the list I'd created while I was waiting for her to arrive last night. She eyes it suspiciously when I hand it to her. “What?” I ask.
“Nothing,” she says slowly, her eyes moving from me to the note. Her smile is a slow build up, turned ear-to-ear grin. “iHop for breakfast,” she reads.
“It's still your favorite, right?”
She nods, her smile somehow getting wider.
She continues to read the list. “Mini golf, library, rollerblading, picnic, science museum, and rock climbing?”
Pulling away from the curb, I glance at her quickly. “It's been a while…I don't know if you're still into all those things.”
“I am.”
“Yeah?” My breath catches when she places her hand on my leg.
“But I'd be just as happy to sit in your room with you and do absolutely nothing.” She leans over and kisses my cheek. “Thank you, Ty.”
“For what?”
“For trying to cheer me up.”
“I just want you to be happy, Al.”
“I know. And I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have you as a friend.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I come from your typical all-American family. I'm an only child and my parents are so in love that growing up, watching their open affection for each either was sometimes sickening. My mom was your typical housewife—similar to a lot of our clients—and my dad worked. Dinner would be on the table the same time every night, and every night my dad would kiss my mom and thank her for not only dinner, but for running the house. I was seventeen when I walked into the kitchen and saw my mom and dad slow dancing in the middle of the room. There was no music. I remember thinking that that—who they were, and what they meant to each other, was the purpose of love. That synchronization. That never getting sick of each other. That effortless bond. That waking up every day and being thankful that the other half of you exists.
And as I watched Allie swinging away with the putter and missing the hole from two feet away for the thirteenth time, I wondered if she was my purpose. If she was all of that for me.
And I wondered why it was so hard for me to voice all of that to her.
We spend the rest of the day ticking off every single item on the list. By the time we finish rock climbing, we're both so exhausted we decide to skip dinner and go home to nap. That's where we are now; in my bed with her in my arms as she drifts off to sleep.
A knock on the door startles me awake. Chase walks in with the phone to his ear but freezes when he sees Allie with me. He picks up the pen on the whiteboard hanging on my door.
Mrs. Fletcher wants to see you. You want me to make it for tomorrow night when Allie's gone?
I nod, careful not to wake her.
He gives me a thumbs up before erasing his note and closing the door behind him.
Luckily, Allie's not one of those girls who take forever to get ready—which is good because we sleep through the first hour of the party. I told her we should just skip it. She reminded me that I was president and it was my job to at least make an appearance.
“Do guys really get turned on by this?” she asks, her focus on the two girls making out on the kitchen counter.
“How is this not a turn on?”
“It's so degrading…”
“No one forces them to do what they're doing, Al.”
“I know…it's just…that's someone's daughter. Someone's sister.” She looks up at me. “How would you feel if it were me?”
I shrug and try to play it cool. “I'd probably be turned on. Then ask for a private screening.”
She laughs and hits my stomach with the back of her hand. “You're a pig.”
